


In a Darkened Room

by Pen_to_parchment



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mortal, Drunken Flirting, F/M, Meet-Cute, Multi, Song: Gorgeous (Taylor Swift), Songfic, bar setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25902874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pen_to_parchment/pseuds/Pen_to_parchment
Summary: A bored designated driver and a tipsy third wheel walk into a bar...[edited]“You’re cute when you’re drunk.”Conversations throughout the bar were just as subdued as the lights glistening above them all. Perhaps people were afraid of what the lights would overhear. Such as a pitiful, drunken attempt at flirting with a guy she’d just met.“You’ve never seen me sober,” she counters easily. “I might be a lot less cute.”
Relationships: Jason Grace & Thalia Grace, Jason Grace/Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace
Comments: 14
Kudos: 30





	In a Darkened Room

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know. It's terribly out of season, but I just wanna skip the s'mores and pumpkin spiced everything and go straight to the hot chocolate and spiked eggnog. Is that too much to ask? It's always jeyna season all year round, though ;)

He isn’t sure of the exact sequence of events that land him in a bar late on Christmas Eve Eve Eve, but Jason thinks it’s worth it to see his sister flirting horribly with an unfortunate brunette in the corner. At the ripe age of twenty-six, Thalia Grace’s taste in both pickup lines and birthday party venues had scarcely improved. In fact, birthdays twenty-one to present were spent in some of the city’s most questionable establishments. It also didn’t help that their celebrations occurred in peak holiday season. Which meant he was beholden to some of the lewdest decorations to ever adorn a Christmas tree. Ranging from dubiously shaped ornaments, reindeer and elves in compromising positions, and unsaintly Saint Nicks in varying degrees of undress, to the provocative neons spelling out the bar’s name: The Garden of Bacchus. 

If he looks past all of that, though, the place doesn’t look so bad. Rafters had been hung with tinsel and wrapped presents. In place of its trademark grapevines, the bar was festooned with evergreen wreaths. The counter and tables had been covered in a striped candy cane pattern, and along the back wall, strings of lights hung in front of an impressive liquor display. Really, a sweeping glance of the room would inspire holiday cheer, but a closer look would put the ‘X’ in _X-mas_. He could forgive that, though. After all, the smaller, dirtier touches had probably been Dakota’s handiwork. 

Jason had to hand it to his sister, though. She had impeccable taste in women. Even from where he’s sitting, the current object of her attention looks gorgeous. He picks out the trappings of late-night bar-hopping on her. Her pretty, if confused, face was flushed, and probably not from the cold. Slightly glassy eyes. He finds himself wondering how sharp they’d be without the alcohol. Dark, tangled hair that had likely been confined in a ponytail earlier tumbled down her back in waves. She was hardly dressed for a night out on the town, though. Her warm winter ensemble tells him that, like him, she’d been dragged out too. Her mouth moves in what he suspects is some polite rejection, and he laughs into his glass as Thalia answers. Her eyes only fix on the girl’s face after roaming her (fully clothed) figure. “Shame.” 

Shame _less_ was more like it. 

His sister wanders back over to him, not discouraged in the least. She scans the room, no doubt picking out her next victim. Jason’s eyes stay fixed on the girl. She only regards the siblings with a bemused smile before looking briskly away. 

To his surprise—and relief—the rest of the night passes with little incident. Or, as little as can be expected with an intoxicated Thalia in tow. After a yelling match with Mr. D, the bar’s owner, and several more failed flirting attempts, his sister had retired to a table with several shots of who-knew-what, to live out the last few hours of her twenty-sixth year in peace. 

Mr. D had gone back to his card game with an older man in a wheelchair. He threw a few suspicious looks at his sister occasionally, but he seemed to have had his fill of screaming patrons for the night.

Confident enough that she no longer needed babysitting, Jason sets out to squeeze in a few drinks before the night’s end. Dakota is bartending tonight. Rarely a dull moment whenever that was the case. His spiked eggnog is a staple this time of year. And you really can’t blame him for almost knocking a girl off her seat in his haste to order one.

______________________________________

Reyna is pleasantly unaccustomed to being grabbed in bars. So when she feels hands on her shoulders, steadying her before she can fall, she pitches forward slightly, sloshing eggnog onto the festive tablecloth. She picks up a deep “Sorry,” somewhere behind her. 

“You’re fine,” she sighs. Out of habit more than anything else. When the hands don’t let go of her for several moments, she turns. And almost collides with a startling pair of blue eyes. _Oh, you_ are _fine._ She sees concern etched on his face, though her gaze doesn’t linger there for long. A deep blue sweater is stretched taut over his chest and arms. Her back was almost flush against him, his hand still warm on her shoulder. Glasses rested crookedly on his nose and magnified the inquisitive eyes looking into her own. She’s only dimly aware of the eggnog spilled on the counter at this point. What she _is_ acutely aware of is him sliding into the seat next to her, though not so much the words exchanged between him and the bartender. He glances sheepishly at her as another glass of eggnog is placed in front of her. 

She quirks an eyebrow at him. 

“Just an apology drink. Scout’s honor.” He lifts a hand in a show of honesty, and he certainly looks like he could’ve been a boy scout. With genuine eyes she could sink and drown in; and golden hair faded by the sparse winter sun. “I, uh… recognized you from earlier. You talked to my sister.” 

He pivots on the stool to indicate a table, and Reyna shivers when his knees brush hers. She does remember her, though. “Ah yes, Thalia. How could I forget?” She flashes him a wry smile. 

“Right,” he chuckles. “Sorry about that. She was probably drunk.” 

Strangely, she hears herself laugh too. “I could tell. What was your name, by the way?” 

“Jason.” 

Taking a sip of her eggnog, she provides her own name. “Reyna.” In any other instance, she would’ve been suspicious of him. But either she was just _that_ tipsy, or something about the way he steadied her with a hand on her shoulder rather than lower on her body, bought her a drink out of pure courtesy, and maintained honest conversation had actually made her less wary of him. Of course, there was the added bonus that he wasn’t quite as forward as his sister. 

Jason only smiles before lifting his glass to his lips. For her part, she occupies herself with the decorations hanging from the ceiling. An obnoxious red bow spins in slow circles in front of her, suspended by a length of gold tinsel. Mentally, she clocks the seconds between its rotations. 

The usual din of the bar had quieted, conversations just as subdued as the lights glistening above them all. Perhaps people were afraid of what the lights would overhear. Such as a pitiful, drunken attempt at flirting with a guy she’d just met. 

“So…” 

She hates how quickly her head whips around to turn back to him. He seems to take notice, too, but he blessedly doesn’t mention anything. “You’re a beautiful woman drinking alone in a bar when you clearly don’t wanna be here. I sense a story.” His eyes sparkle over the rim of his glass, and as much as she would’ve denied anyone else that information, she can’t quite bring herself to do that to him. 

In truth, she didn’t much mind being there, _now._ She elects to ignore the compliment, though. “It’s a bit of a tragedy, really.” And, after another sip, she recounts the exact sequence of events that land _her_ in a bar late on Christmas Eve Eve Eve.

______________________________________

“Well, first of all, I’m third-wheeling. So that’s fun.” Jason follows Reyna’s eyes to a table on the other side of the room. “Nico,” She gestures to the dark-haired figure. “Insisted I go everywhere with him and his boyfriend.” She doesn’t sound too angry, though. The smile on her face expresses happiness for her friend. “Not that I mind. That just means he won’t call me later to gush about Will.” 

He grins as Nico blushes. Whether the product of alcohol or whatever Will had said to him, no one could know. “For what it’s worth, I’m kind of third-wheeling, too,” he offers. 

She glances at Thalia again, finding her glaring up at the present dangling above her. “Really?” 

“Yeah. Tonight was supposed to be between my sister and her birthday induced self-pity. I’m just a designated driver.” And he was preparing for that job just fine. There was a slim chance a glass of eggnog would suffice to heavily inebriate him. He was, however, the slightest bit drunk on Reyna’s voice. 

Her eyes widen slightly as she sips her own eggnog. “Birthday? Should I feel guilty?” 

“No. I don’t think she took it too hard.” They chance a look back at his sister in time to see her knocking back a glass. “Or maybe she did.” He winces, and Reyna breaks into a light laugh across from him. 

“Okay,” she relents. “You have it worse than I do. Still, we went bar-hopping, and Nico just dumped me here to spend quality time with Will. I mean, he says his type is “hot, dumb blonds,” her fingers bend in air quotes around the words. “But I’ll never understand that.” 

He takes that as a challenge. “Really? Never?” He leans the slightest bit forward so their legs touched, still a respectful distance away from her. “What’s not to understand? I was actually hoping your type was the same.” He almost starts to regret that, and he notices her searching for something in him. He only stares back. The lights in the bar had been dimmed to let the seasonal decor take full effect. And it certainly did. Soft reds and greens dapple over her face, highlighting different features as she studies him thoughtfully. Whatever she was looking for, she didn’t find it. Eventually, she spoke again. 

“Does terrible flirting run in the family?” She swirls her glass idly, still regarding him keenly, though not as intensely as before. 

Jason shrugs. “Dad was a bit of a playboy.” 

She laughs then. It’s not a full one. Still fairly controlled, but it’s brighter than all the lights twinkling above them. And it warms him more than the copious amount of rum Dakota had used in the eggnog. “You’re cute when you’re drunk,” he decides. He pretends not to see the way she almost chokes into her glass. 

______________________________________

Jason was infuriating. _Cute?_ This wasn’t her plan. Very little was going according to plan tonight, it seemed. For one thing, The Garden should have been at least her fifth bar with Nico. As part of their elaborate tradition to celebrate the holidays without significant others, they went bar-hopping on each of the Twelve Days of Christmas. That tradition was half broken, now. Instead, this was their second bar with Will. And it would likely be their last, considering the med student would drag them home once sufficiently tipsy. Aside from that, Reyna had few qualms with Nico’s boyfriend. He’d made the long drive up from Texas to spend winter break with him, and he wasn’t complaining. With her glass still at her lips, she steals another look at her friend. 

They were nestled in a booth together. Something about Will missing the Texan sun and needing Nico for warmth. Despite the fact that the boy radiated about as much heat as the New York winter, he complied without much of a fight. Though his boyfriend proved to give off enough sunshine for the both of them. She can forgive him for breaking tradition, she decides. As long as he can make her friend smile. Regardless, her holiday plans had needed tweaking because of his visit. She resolved she would just sulk at the bar all night. 

Those plans did not include flirting with a handsome blond she couldn’t seem to find fault with. And yet here she was. The night was supposed to end with her stumbling home to her dogs. Instead, she finds herself wanting Jason to come along. He’s still staring expectantly when she sets her eggnog down. “You’ve never seen me sober,” she counters easily. “I might be a lot less cute.” 

“I highly doubt that.” He chuckles. “But maybe I’ll find out on the date I’m going to ask you out on.” 

_Okay, maybe he_ was _as bold as his sister._

“Preferably using the number I’m going to ask you to give me?” 

Reyna tries again in vain to find the wolfish grin or leering eyes that usually accompanied these kinds of advances. She could tell she was making him uneasy. Still, all she could find was tentative sincerity in Jason’s endearingly nervous face. When she laughs, more at herself than anything, she doesn’t miss the dark blush blooming up his neck. His attempt to hide the sudden redness of his face in his glass does little to help his case. 

As she slides her phone across the counter, he sputters, laughing breathlessly. It’s her turn to hide a smile as he saves his number with shaky fingers. She takes his offered phone wordlessly, entering her number and name into his contacts. 

Setting his phone down, she sits back to watch him fumble with hers. “Just so you know, I blame this entire conversation on the rum in this.” She sits with her arms over her chest in a show of playful pride. It would’ve been quite the feat to turn down both siblings in one night. 

He hands her phone back with a grin. “Good enough for me.”

She smirks at his self-appointed contact name: _Hot Dumb Blond_. 

“And here you said this was just an apology drink,” she accuses. 

“Oh, it was.” Jason winces as he knocks back the rest of the eggnog. “Well, I _did_ ask you out, but I’ll buy you a drink for real on that date. Something non-alcoholic, though. Can’t have you blaming our first date on being drunk.” It appears a knowing smirk is the closest he’ll get to that wolfish grin. “Maybe coffee or—”

She sips the last of her drink thoughtfully. “Hot chocolate.” 

“Hot chocolate,” he considers. “Okay, then. Hot chocolate it is.”

______________________________________

As predicted, he’s slinging his sister’s arm over his shoulder on their way out. Jason suspects Mr. D is happy to see Thalia leave. He mutters a snarky _happy birthday_ before she collapses in the car, sprawled out over the backseat. She only scoffs and raises a certain finger in response. As he drives away, the lights in the window follow him. Hazy, muddled blotches in the rearview, but clear as ever in his mind. They were, however, far outshined by the memory of a dark-haired figure laughing beneath them. 

As predicted, she and Nico are herded through the door somewhere between their third and fourth drinks. They cross onto the sidewalk, at which point Reyna is promptly left behind once again. She’s content to linger a few paces behind the couple, though. Nico and Will walk ahead, wrapped up in each other and whatever conversation echoed in the cloudy breaths billowing between them. Her way home is paved with more lights. And with the way each little twinkle brings blue eyes to mind, he might as well have followed her anyway. 

Later, they both thank the sequence of events that landed them in a bar late on Christmas Eve Eve Eve. 

Evidently, it had led to something rather _un_ predictable.


End file.
